Before the Worst
by Chaylay23
Summary: Sequel to "Breakeven". When Shawn suspects that some of his old co-workers have come to Santa Barbara for revenge, he does his best to avoid making Gus disappear again until the choice is made for him.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Harold Cleverman died on a Tuesday. It was an ordinary day to die for an ordinary man in an ordinary town. He lived an ordinary life, drove an ordinary car and kept an ordinary circle of friends and family. It was all so painfully boring that when the not-so-ordinary detail of Harold Cleverman's existence showed up on the third viewing of the crime scene Lassiter was royally pissed that Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster were the ones to witness it.

"What are you raving about, Spencer? We have real police work to do here and you're, as usual, standing in the way of it." Lassiter griped, stepping out of the way of a group of lab techs.

"Lassie, are you sure I'm not merely basking in the glow of its non-existence?" He turned on the ball of his foot and made his way to the center of the room. Short of actually lying in the outline of the body, he studied the carpet around the bloodstains. A glint of something caught his eye from underneath the ordinary sofa across the room. He rose, closing his eyes and spread his arms wide apart.

"There! There, underneath the settee!" he began, gathering the entire room's attention.

"I believe it's called a chaise lounge-" Gus interjected.

"Out of the way, Spencer. Hey, you, Nerd Boy, get in here." He crouched down and watched as the nervous lab tech struggled to pull on a pair of gloves. After the third failed try, Lassiter pushed him out of the way and took the gloves himself. He knelt further and reached under the small couch and pulled out a large, sapphire jeweled ring with a strange mark on the side.

Shawn didn't have to step closer to realize that he recognized the stone and the inscription. His blood had begun to run cold and his hands had started shaking when Gus turned to him, an ordinary look of amusement on his face.

"So, what's this clue mean, Mr. Psychic?" He asked, slightly less cheerful than usual after one-upping Lassiter. "Shawn?"

Shawn shook himself slightly and gripped Gus' forearm tightly. "It means that we have to leave."

* * *

Gus hadn't spoken a word the whole ride back to their apartment. Shawn liked to believe he was silently contemplating the scenery rolling past the Blueberry's windows, rather than quietly wondering why he'd decided to stay with Shawn in the first place. Shawn tuned the radio to a Classics station and watched Gus ignore every opportunity to sing along to the cheesy choruses.

He got fed up with the silence after about fifteen minutes. "Gus, what are you thinking?"

Gus didn't answer at first, continuing to watch the scrolling scenery. When Shawn had just about given up, he turned his head, a sad grin on his face. "I was really getting used to it, you know? I'd almost forgotten we're different now. Different people."

Shawn frowned and tried to object. "We're still us. We haven't changed, we've just… evolved."

"My mom even stopped looking at you like you corrupted me. She's even started accepting us living together, owning a psychic detective agency, being… _an us_." He sighed and leaned his head against the window. "It was all starting to fit together."

At that, Shawn returned his focus to the road. Granted, Mrs. Guster had been glad to find Shawn safe and in one piece, knowing that he meant a lot to Gus; she hadn't been too cheerful about the extent of their relationship. She just didn't trust Shawn not to break her son's heart so soon after it had been put back together again. It was out of love and respect for Gus that she remained quiet whenever the topic of their apartment, their job or their relationship came up. She instead preferred to think of them as extremely close friends.

Gus forced a smile and asked, "Do you think that… maybe I could get to say goodbye this time?" He cocked an eyebrow and tried to sell the idea. "I mean, wouldn't it be better? If we came up with some kind of cover story, she wouldn't ask questions…"

"You wouldn't have to lie to her." Shawn supplied. He knew without hearing it explicitly from Gus how much it hurt him to have to lie to his mother repeatedly. "Tell you what…" he turned into their apartment complex and turned off the car. "If I can solve this murder and I don't see anyone from the old… neighborhood, we can stay."

Gus frowned, doubtful. "You really think you can?"

Shawn just grinned and got out of the car. He didn't know if he could but he'd never wanted to try harder for anything else in his life.


	2. Taken

There was something weird about Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster; other than the obvious fact that they ran a psychic detective agency. Carlton Lassiter couldn't quite put his finger on it but he was positive there was something odd about those two, despite his blonde partner's insistence that he was just jealous off their success.

It was something in the way they spoke when they believed no one was listening. He witnessed it during a case about a man murdered in his apartment late one Sunday afternoon. The corpse was soaked in water from a broken fish tank and sand littered the floor, sparkling where metallic specks lay. He'd kneeled down to observe strange markings on the man's wrist and looked up in time to see Gus pull Shawn aside and angrily whisper, "You still wanna pretend this isn't the same guy from that flight because I'm not buying it anymore, Shawn. I wanna stay but if you can't solve this case I'd rather have you alive and halfway across the world from me than sit here and watch you die."

And Lassiter's ears had perked at the words "alive" and "die" and the serious tone of Guster's voice was so out of character he was sure he'd heard wrong. He stood to his feet and observed the resolute and contained expression on Gus' face and the defensive look on Shawn's. They appeared to be in one of their childish competition modes but their conversation belied their faces.

It was out of pure curiosity that Lassiter bugged their Psych office. He'd entered under the guise of seeking consulting advice and it was later on that he realized he should have predicted his plan would fail out of sheer ridiculousness. At the time, Shawn had smiled and let him in, keeping his back turned at every probable moment; giving him ample time to plant the bug underneath one of Guster's many paper weights.

By the time he was comfortable lying on his couch at home, headphones in place, he heard some the sound of a loud, exaggerated voice covered in brief static. "Gus, I think Lassie's onto us."

"That's ridiculous, we've done so well." The sounds of shuffling papers.

"Oh, Gus, the man's one of the best detectives on the force. How could we ever think we're good enough to fool a pro like him?" Shuffling papers and a thud.

Lassiter held the headphones closer and was thrown back by the sounds of moaning and hushed tones. "Damn it, Spencer knows." He muttered. It was just like him to pull something like this. The sound of zippers met his ears and he could just picture the two of them sitting around planning this from the moment he left the office.

He's taken his headphones partly off when he heard Gus' heavy voice. "Shawn, we should stop. This isn't nice."

"Nice, the man bugged our office and you're concerned that _we're_ not being nice." Came Shawn's snarled retort. Lassiter sat up; now this was more like what he'd seen earlier.

"I thought we were just trying to get him to leave us alone. Lay low, stay off his radar." Gus supplied, hopeful and a muffled gasp was heard in the background. _They're really…_ Lassiter was lost in thought. On one hand, he'd incorrectly assumed Spencer had just been dicking around and Guster and he weren't really an item and now that he knew for sure, he didn't want to listen to their… relations. On the other hand, what he was hearing now had caught his attention. He was going to get to the bottom of this if he had to sit here all night. He shuddered at the thought.

"That was before we started fishing, Gus. Before we knew what we were up against." A soft thud and Gus mumbled something Lassiter didn't catch. Shawn laughed softly and his voice came again, louder, surer. "You bit me first."

"It's getting harder to stay than it would be to go." A brief groan and Shawn's chuckle was obvious in the low static. "I'm not sure we shouldn't just give up."

"Well I am. Now throw the bug out already and fuck me." Shuffling and then a loud screech of feedback before all sound cut out.

That event had just made Lassiter all the more determined to prove to his doubtful partner that Spencer and Guster weren't who they appeared to be. His second opportunity appeared after they'd shown up at a crime scene the perp hadn't had the chance to escape yet. The siren rang out, screeching their arrival and the hooded figure streaked across the lawn faster than the two detectives could exit their vehicle. He ran in the direction of the backyard and Lassiter was crossing the lawn when he noticed Spencer out of the corner of his eye following suit.

"Spencer, what the hell are you doing? The suspect is armed! Get back in your ridiculous car and drive home." He shouted heatedly, anger peaking when the younger man didn't even appear fazed. He simply ignored the command and, if possible, sped up. By the time Lassiter rounded the corner, Shawn was out of sight and the suspect as well.

Lassiter spun around, knocking Juliet into the side of the house. "Where did they go?" She asked, panting and scanning the victim's property for any sign of the three men.

"Why didn't you retain Spencer?" He demanded, choosing to follow the alley of the property. Juliet followed suit, eying the neighborhood for any sigh of movement.

"He shot off after you saying something about Gus and a sandbox?" She finished, nose scrunched up in confusion because sure, she'd heard the two men say some pretty outlandish things but never with such a stern tone. Shawn had taken off, seemingly after Lassiter but as he surpassed the senior detective, it because obvious he had more of a direction than it appeared.

It was a few minutes before a shot rang out and they sped up, rounding a corner in time to see the suspect crouched down on the ground, holding the bloody mess that must've been an arm at one point. The man groaned in pain, spitting obscenities at the two men a few feet away.

Shawn had his arms around Gus, head resting on the taller man's shoulder in a pose of protectiveness and an expression that seemed a bit too much like unapologetic guilt. Gus' eyes were shadowed and his hands were perceptively shaking. Juliet observed the scene with quiet calm before registering that their suspect had been shot, Shawn and Gus were okay and the gun had to be somewhere close as the shot had sounded not more than a few minutes ago.

She holstered her gun, watching as her partner handcuffed the scumbag out of the corner of her eye. She spotted the pistol underneath the nearby brush and pulled out a pair of gloves. She picked up the gun and noticed that it seemed smaller than the one she'd seen before. She shook her head; the heat of the moment must've confused her mind of the details. Still… the look on Shawn's face just before he'd run after Lassiter, he'd looked certain, sure that if he caught up to the suspect he would be able to protect Gus, protect himself. It didn't add up.

Back at the station and days later, Lassiter had received their suspect's medical report. The bullet wound had been small and too precise to have come from the gun he'd spotted the man carrying before. It was of smaller caliber, the shot had been too quiet and the aim… the suspect had been shot in the hand, his left hand. Earlier that day, Spencer had had some huge psychic revelation that the suspect was right handed but shot with his left ritualistically.

His suspect had been shot in his left hand with a small caliber weapon Lassiter didn't even see in his possession. He couldn't prove it but he knew the two men were hiding something. Once again, something didn't make sense.

Lassiter was sure he'd be able to prove his theory after Guster got himslef trapped in a shitty situation with a suspect once again. He honestly didn't know how the young man made it to twenty eight when he consistently managed to get stuck in terrible situations with dangerous people. Then again, he didn't trust Spencer and thought the man to be dangerous, as well. That settled it, Guster attracted danger.

The Psych duo arrived at a hotel crime scene to "divine" clues to identify the killer and Shawn foolishly left his phone in the Blueberry. He annoyed and cajoled the older man to go down to the car to get it and as Guster shuffled off to the elevator, neither Shawn, Lassiter or Juliet thought anything of the middle-aged man getting into the elevator beside him.

It was only after Shawn had registered that the flecks of white paint on the wooden floor matched the white specks on the cuff of the stranger's dress shirt and shoved Lassiter rather roughly on his way into the hallway. Annoyed at being manhandled so easily but aware of the situation, Lassiter hurried after the man into the main hallway, eying the numbers lit above the shut doors.

"He was going down to the lobby, so if the light hits one, he's alright? Right?" Juliet asked, coming up behind the two men as the voice of reason.

Shawn spun around furious, "Yeah, he'll be alright! He'll be totally fucking fine! I try to protect him but it's obvious I'm stuck chasing ghosts."

Juliet cowered back against the wall behind her, backing off. Lassiter's jaw fell open. Spencer had never spoken to anyone that way, let alone Juliet whom he had a causal flirty relationship with. Part of him was pissed off on behalf of his partner but the other half was slightly impressed.

"This is stupid; we can't do anything waiting here and hoping that the numbers run down. Let's take the stairs." Lassiter suggested, relieved when the shorter man agreed readily and started towards the end of the hall.

They made it into the lobby just as the elevator doors opened and Gus fell out of them, panting. Behind him, the middle-aged man lay against the wooden panel clutching his face and his sides, howling in pain. "Are you okay?" Lassiter barely got out before Shawn pushed past him for the second time that day.

"What happened?" he demanded, almost accusatory. He shot a brief glance as the rest of the SBPD team filed in to observe, guns raised. The suspect was taken into custody but Lassiter's attention remained on the two men exiting the hotel clandestinely. He waited until they'd ducked into an alley nearby before pressing himself against a brick wall and listening in.

"Gus, what the fuck was that?" Shawn demanded again and it was clearly evident that he blamed Gus for what happened. "You never do anything I say and you chose today to start?"

Silence as Lassiter processed what this meant. Guster had followed the perp into the elevator on purpose? That didn't make sense; according to Shawn's account Guster couldn't fight his way out of a gang of middle school girls let alone a trained criminal with a series of attacks to his name.

"You didn't see it coming. You didn't know who he was or why he was here and he could've seriously hurt you—"

"He could've seriously hurt you! Stop trying to fight my battles for me, Gus. It will get you killed one day." He spat.

"Better me than you."

A harsh thus of a fist meeting bone. "Never say that." A low whisper. "Never say that to me again." The sounds of footsteps on gravel met his ears and Lassiter backed up the street and started towards the alley's opening. They rounded the corner, Gus holding his cheek and working his jaw. He gave a wry smile and nodded a greeting.

Lassiter nodded slowly in response before adding, "Just checking to see how you were Guster. We're gonna need a statement from you."

"Yeah, can it wait?" He shot a heated look in Shawn's direction and continued in the direction of the parking lot. "I have to go get Shawn's phone. Gotta finish what I started."

Lassiter watched him go and realized that he would never fully understand what was going on between Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster.

* * *

Just a few weeks after Detective Lassiter had given up on trying to figure out Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster, Detective Juliet O'Hara reluctantly took up the cause. She'd rounded the corner to the fax machines in the back of the station to find Shawn banging his forehead against a laptop connected to an office computer with some complicated and variably colored wiring. Examining the screen it became obvious that Shawn had hacked into the criminal database which was odd because they hadn't worked together on a case in a few days.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she decided to give him a chance to tell the truth. "Shawn? What are you doing?"

Shawn didn't move from his spot and instead, clicked over to a page with a picture of an apartment complex. He sniffed and tried for a lighter voice. "Just running a background check on a prospective landlord for me and Gus." He turned around and wiped a tired hand over his face, unsuccessfully shielding Juliet from seeing his reddened eyes. He gave a wry smile and explained, "Seemed like the thing to do since the last apartment we looked at had a serial killer for a landlord."

Juliet gave a brief chuckle and accepted his answer; always wanting to see the good in everyone. "You're probably right. Give my best to Gus for me, will ya?" And if it weren't for her adjusting to a new pair of contacts, she would've sworn Shawn's mood darkened at her comment. She brushed it off and returned to her desk, pulling out her mirror and making sure her contacts were in the proper position.

She let the curiosity go until a mere week later, she noticed that while in the past Shawn preferred to come into the station as often as possible either to scout cases, flirt with her or simply to annoy Lassiter, he'd slowly begun to avoid the office altogether. She used to think most of the fun in solving cases came from putting on a show for Gus but lately, whenever "Psych's" help was requested on a case, Shawn phoned in his information and the chief was now asked to mail their checks to the Psych office.

Worried when she hadn't seen the duo in two weeks, she called Shawn and asked if the two wanted to join the force for bowling and refused to take 'no' for an answer. When Shawn showed up that Tuesday night, he was alone and the bags under his eyes were prominent enough that even Lassiter stopped in his tracks.

"Spencer, you look like hell. You and the misses having a rough time?" He asked, shrugging off his partner's elbow to the ribs. "Speaking of your relatively better half, where is Guster?"

Again, and this time Juliet was sure it wasn't her contacts, Shawn's reaction was visceral and obvious. His entire posture seemed to lower and he sighed heavily. It was almost as if he'd begun to lose all the fight he had left. "He's at the office filing some paperwork and… stapling things, faxing things, making phone calls. He's just super, super busy but he told me to—" his voice broke off and he had to clear his throat a couple of times to get the rest of his sentence out. "He told me to try to have a good time without him tonight."

Juliet crossed her arms and sat down on the bench. She made it obvious Shawn wasn't fooling her though her partner bought the story easily. "Wow, you just get away with slacking off everywhere, don't you Spencer? I'm surprised even Guster can't see through you."

At that, Shawn actually fell to the bench next to Juliet and covered his face. Patting him on the back, Juliet finally told him what she suspected was really going on. "Shawn? Have you and Gus been fighting? Its okay if you have, you don't have to hide it from us. We've all been there." She looked up at her partner expectantly, prompting Lassiter to give in and come to her aid.

Putting his hands on his hips, "Yeah, Spencer. I can't tell you how many times I've been in the doghouse." He bit back a greedy smile. "So what you'd do? What finally sent Guster over the edge?"

Shawn head flew up from his hands, eyes fiery and alit with anger. He shook his head and shrugged Juliet's hand off of his back. "Fuck you, Lassiter." He stood up and pushed his bowling ball bag over, dangerously close to Lassiter's foot.

He stormed out of the bowling alley so quickly a small, folded piece of paper slid out of his jacket pocket. Bending over to pick it up, Juliet barely caught the words "for what you did" before the door to the building slammed so harshly the glass panes shattered.

"Jesus, Spencer has quite the temper on him. All I did was ask a question." Lassiter muttered, turning around and returning to the crowd at the SBPD's usual lane.

Juliet unfolded the note and read, "I'm going to make sure you pay for what you did," In precise, cursive handwriting. She studied the worn creases and the smeared ink and it became obvious that Shawn had read and reread this note over and over again. It was obviously related to what upset him tonight. Grabbing her purse and waving a rushed farewell to the department, she hurried outside to find Shawn crouched down next to his bike.

A breeze went by and the note shook in her hands. "Shawn? Does this have anything to do with why you're so upset?" She asked, gesturing to the note as Shawn got to his feet. Upon recognizing the small paper, he took a step backward.

Refusing to show his hand, he asked, "What do you think?"

Flustered, Juliet took hesitant steps forward before answering. "I think you're in a very stressful position right now that you don't know how to get out of." She came closer until she could look him in his widening eyes. "I can help you. Both of you."

Shawn had appeared to accept this until he winced and slid down to the ground. Burying his face in his knees, Shawn refused to respond to Juliet's questioning until she finally asked the one he'd both been dreading yet waiting to hear. "Shawn, where is Gus?"

Letting his shields down for once in the past month, Shawn sniffed and lifted his head, tears rolling down his face. "I don't know." He wiped at his eyes and explained, more desperate. "He's been taken."


	3. Confess

"Shawn, what do you mean Gus has been 'taken'?" Juliet asked, tracking Shawn as he weaved through the desks in the Santa Barbara Police Department. He paced a bit outside of the Chief's office before slumping down in the rigid chair next to Juliet's desk. Taking the seat behind the desk, Juliet pulled out her notepad, observing the slight tensing of Shawn's shoulders as she did.

Sighing, Shawn elaborated. "I mean that he has been physically moved from one place to another." Covering his face with his hand, he added. "I can't find him and I'm starting to get scared."

"How long has he been gone?" She was careful in her wording at the slight chance that Gus had left on his own. She doubted it; she'd seen the way the two men act around each other and knew enough to know that Gus would never hurt Shawn like that. Not intentionally.

Shawn's brow furrowed further as he decided whether or not to tell the truth. He still wasn't entirely convinced that he shouldn't just keep the details to himself. Plant the false notion that they'd had a really bad break-up, that Gus left him and then he could work the case all on his own. He could return to the only thing he'd ever really been good at, the only career he'd truly found a sick sense of belonging in. He knew this life had been too good to be true. He'd had Gus, his own apartment and a steady job working to make up for some of the hurt he'd caused; things had been going good… too good.

To tell the truth, the only reason Shawn hadn't just deserted Santa Barbara and tracked down his old contacts was because he knew that Gus would never forgive him. If Gus was still alive, and Shawn hadn't really bothered considering the possibility that he wasn't, he would want Shawn to try, to at least attempt to get him back without hurting anyone else in the process. Never mind that they might not be the nicest members of society, never mind that if the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him in return, Gus would see it as a betrayal. A renege on his promise to leave that life, that other Shawn in the past.

He knew he should cooperate, get help because Gus would want it that way. However, knowing this didn't make it any easier for him to spit the truth out. "Four weeks. He's been missing for four weeks."

"Four weeks!" Juliet exclaimed, reading his face with disbelief. "He's been gone for four weeks and you're just _starting_ to worry?"

"Scared; I'm starting to get _scared_. I'm definitely worried… I worry all the time." He admitted bitterly. His eyes lowered to the silver ring on his forefinger. Before he'd gone to Gus' home that night, he'd spent his days worried sick that he wouldn't get to Gus in time. He believed that since he'd been able to find Gus with absolutely no trouble, anyone else could. He chuckled a little to himself remembering how easily it had been to kidnap Gus himself. Really, did Gus ever really have a chance of making it out of this thing alive?

Juliet leaned forward and took Shawn's hand from across the desk. Startled, Shawn was jarred out of his thoughts by the first real human contact in what felt like a lifetime. "Shawn." She said gently, the voice reserved for victims and their families. "We will find him. I know that it's really hard having to accept that you can't fix this right away; it's going to take time, but we will work our asses off to get him back." The 'for you' was unspoken but there was no doubt in Shawn's mind that Juliet had an idea of just how much Gus meant to him.

Shawn froze for a moment, eyes locked with hers as he processed what she was saying versus what he was thinking. Eventually the corner of his mouth gave a slight lift and the sorrow in his eyes, if possible, deepened further. Pulling his hand out of her grasp, Shawn shook his head and began to stand. "Thanks for your help Jules but it'd be better if you went on without me. This was my fault, I was selfish and it cost me Gus; it cost me the only person that ever really trusted me. I'm not sure having me around won't just make the situation worse."

He left Juliet at her desk calling in the missing person's report. Instead of going back to the empty apartment he'd begrudgingly returned 'home' to for the past four weeks, he went back to the Psych office. He'd done what Gus would've wanted him to do; he asked the department for help. Now, he was free to do things his way, the old way.

* * *

The missing person's case for Burton Guster made for a surprisingly thin file. After all, with the exception of the transcripts from the schools the twenty-six year old man attended, he seemed to disappear off the face of the planet for a year. To say the least, it was odd and Carlton Lassiter never settled for odd. Having already decided something was off about the Psych duo, he was certain that to unlock the mystery of Guster's past and his disappearance, he would have to use Spencer to do it. So, Lassiter began to tail Spencer, unbeknownst to his partner.

His initiative set the stage for the arrest of Shawn Spencer. Upon tailing Shawn early one morning, Lassiter finally got the probable cause he was looking for. He watched as Shawn entered the Psych office, eying the quiet neighborhood for any surveillance. Seconds later, a hooded figure followed him in, the tell-tale glint of a metallic pistol tucked in the back of his waistband. Lassiter threw his door open and rushed to the office, pausing outside, back to the wall, to peer in from an angle. Calling for backup, Lassiter counted to five before kicking the door open.

Gun raised, eyes trained on the two men speaking in hushed tones, guns trained on each other, Lassiter ordered, "Police, drop your weapon!" The unknown man sized Lassiter up and down and didn't react. He simply glanced back at Spencer as if to ask 'Is this guy serious?'.

What he said instead was, "Is this some kind of a trick, Spencer? You trying to set me up? Because I came here as payback for saving my ass in Houston. If you're trying to start something you should've brought a better cop because I guarantee you I'll have no problem finishing this." His arm raised, gun to Lassiter's eye level.

Shawn crossed him arms and leaned back against Gus' empty, yet still pristine, desk. Wearily, "Put it down, Jake." When the other man made no move towards complying, Shawn pushed off the desk and stepped halfway in front of Lassiter. "Put. It. Down."

"Jake" complied and Lassiter swallowed the small blow to his ego before ordering, "Kick your weapon over here and then keep your hands up where I can see them."

It was so generic Shawn couldn't resist making at least one snarky comment. "Okay, but would you like make any other, less cliché commands. Any requests? I know I haven't yet mastered the Moonwalk but Jake here is a complete savant at the Hokey-Pokey."

Biting his lip, his "Can it, Spencer" was drowned out by the sounds of approaching sirens. Pulling out his cuffs, Lassiter had Spencer restrained as members of the police force made their way inside. "I've got Spencer, the firearms are over there and I'd like you to put a call into a judge to see about securing a warrant. I knew something was up with Spencer the second I laid eyes on him." He muttered.

He shuffled Shawn through the door of the office, calling over his shoulder. "Hey, McNabb, if you could keep this from getting to O'Hara long enough for me too—"

"Completely ruin my trust in you?" The pint-size blonde blocked Lassiter's way through the door. To say she was pissed would be an understatement. "You go behind my back and not only tail our missing person's family but then you arrest him too? Never mind the serious breach in police procedure, what about the complete breach of my faith in you?"

"O'Hara, listen, I can explain. I'm the only one that saw that they were—"

"Oh, 'they' again? This is about your little theory, isn't it? Let it go, Lassiter, you've been trying to get to the bottom of this huge mystery for three months and you haven't yet accepted that it's complete crap?" Juliet shook her head and marched away towards her own car. "This not over, Carlton. Shawn, don't say anything, I'm getting you a lawyer."

"A lawyer, you can't do that! That's—" Lassiter objected.

"A serious breach in protocol? Well, it would be if I hadn't suddenly come into some vacation time." After opening the door, she paused. "I'm going to need all the time I can get to find a new partner."

* * *

A hand slammed down hard on the wooden table, shaking it on its wobbly legs. "We found a USB drive with department files in your desk, Spencer. Do you know what that means?" the confident smirk on Lassiter's face did nothing to change the apathy Shawn's expressions belied. But that was okay because Lassiter would get him to talk in no time.

"It means that you searched an office and found office supplies. Seriously, if you wanted to organize a scavenger hunt for paperclips and staplers, don't you think a Kinko's would be better suited?" Shawn asked sarcastically, the sour look on the interrogator's face giving him a small joy.

"It means that we know you've been using department resources to look into the records of some of the most dangerous criminals we've put behind bars. Now tell me, Mr. Spencer, if Guster just went missing, how come you've been looking into our files for the past month?"

Biting his lip, Shawn determinedly avoided the affronted expression on Juliet's face. Really, she'd done more than enough in hopes of salvaging Shawn's relationship with anyone from the SBPD but unfortunately, she'd ignored just how many circumstances of Gus' case made Shawn look guilty. It wasn't just the USB; it was only a matter of time before they found out that this was the second time Burton Guster had mysteriously disappeared, or that until two years ago, Shawn Spencer's social security number lead to a deceased eighty-year old Ukrainian immigrant.

He hadn't intended to hurt Juliet and he needed her on his side if he wanted to get out of here to find Gus on his own. "If you spent any time at all listening to your prettier and less plastic half, you'd know that after that incident with our previous homicidal landlord, I decided that it might be smarter if I did a background check on any potential apartment lenders. You think that's a crime, maybe you should arrest me?" He cocked his head to the side with a snarky grin. "Oh wait, you already did that."

Lassiter shook his head and sat down on the end of the table, intentionally blocking Shawn's view of Juliet in the corner of the room. "You seem to have an answer for everything. Let's see how you explain this." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and dropped it down on the table, no doubt for dramatic effect.

Not sparing a glance at the disgruntled officer, Shawn took the envelope gingerly, noting the postmark date and the strangely familiar handwriting. Pulling out a photograph, he turned it over, hand instantly covering his mouth in shock. He tore the outside edges of the envelope and pulled out the remaining note. "You know why we took him. We're willing to trade if you turn yourself in."

Lassiter observed the throbbing of the vein in Spencer's neck and the flush to his skin and congratulated himself on finally getting to him. Cracking his knuckles, "'You know why we took him.' Well, Spencer, it seems to me that whoever took your 'Gus' blames you for it. You can't keep claiming plausible deniability when these people singled you out."

Still refusing to look Lassiter in the eye, Shawn's hands clenched in an attempt to control his temper. This changed everything and he wanted nothing more than to bulrush the senior detective into the wall, steal his gun and get out of here. He'd made some mistakes in his past but this one… this was possibly the worst of all. Shawn buried his face in his hands and took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. If only Lassiter would stop talking.

"So this picture…" He picked it up, leaning in closer to further antagonize Shawn. "Who is she, Spencer? Someone special, someone from your past? According to our records, you never had one."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." He muttered in response, as if he was trying to will himself to keep himself from throwing the older man to the ground and silencing him for good. "Please, do yourself a favor and stop talking."

"Or what, Spencer? You gonna do to me what you did to her?" He turned the picture a few times and frowned. "We can't find any real record of an Addison Coleman in any of our systems and what we've found doesn't make sense. And speaking of mysterious disappearances, an Isabella Cardellini was reported missing a couple of years ago by one… Shawn Spencer, oddly enough. Apparently, just like everything and everyone else around you, she just vanished."

"I'm warning you—"

"Just gone off of the face of the planet. No notes, no phone calls to any family—"

"Let this go, Lassiter. You won't like where it ends—"

"Disappearances without any explanation, it's almost as if they've been—"

"Carlton! Maybe you should give it a rest—" Juliet interjected.

"Murdered." Lassiter finished, ignoring the threatening gleam to Shawn's gaze. "I'm starting to think maybe Guster's disappearance had a lot more to do with you than we thought. Maybe he left because he was afraid of what would happen to him if he stayed. What you would _do_ to him if he stayed."

Shawn started to rise, fists clenched on the table but the steady roll of Lassiter's voice continued. "Maybe Guster figured out that everyone around you somehow disappeared and he didn't want to be the next victim—" The speech was cut off by a tan, muscular forearm pressing against the base of Lassiter's throat. Blinking rapidly as the edges of his vision started to blur, Lassiter gazed up as a furious Shawn Spencer pinned him to the wall behind his back. He could vaguely hear Juliet in the background telling Spencer to let him go and then, after a beat, reluctantly calling McNabb for assistance.

"You take that back! I never asked Gus to stay and I wouldn't have done anything to hurt him! I would've done anything for him! I told him to go! I gave him the chance to run but he wouldn't take it. He chose to stay—he chose to stay with me. He _chose_ to stay!" He screamed, voice stuttering off as McNabb and another officer struggled to haul him off as Lassiter gasped for breath.

"Then why is he gone, Spencer? Huh? Explain that to me." He came closer to the reastrained man and leaned in to look him in the eye. "If Guster chose to stay with you, then why is he gone?"

The room was silent with the exception of panting breaths as Shawn refused to back down. From outside of the room, having run out to call McNabb, Juliet could see the weary lines around Shawn's eyes as his resolve started to crack. He was hiding something huge but deep in the pit of her gut, she couldn't believe it was anything unforgivable. If Shawn had lied about anything, and there was no doubt in her mind that he'd lied about a lot, she knew it was to protect himself, and probably Gus as well.

Juliet needed to get the truth from him and she wouldn't get anywhere with her partner provoking Shawn at every turn. She had to get Shawn alone.

Clenching his teeth, Shawn bit out, "I don't have anything more to say to you that you haven't already heard." After standing his ground for a moment, the senior detective coughed a few times before turning and stumbling out of the interrogation room into the hallway.

Slumping down into the chair closest to the window into the interrogation room, Lassiter eyed Spencer's strangely calm posture. Juliet joined him a few minutes later, intense look on her face. "Still think it was wrong for me to arrest him?"

Giving him a disappointed glare, she nodded and watched Shawn through the window. "Yes, I do. I don't think he did this, Carlton. Not to Gus."

"Two other women went missing, in similar ways I might add. O'Hara, he's our guy." He insisted, unsure why her approval meant so much to him.

"So what, you think he murdered three people? To what purpose?" She argued.

"You know what, your little Disney channel argument that he couldn't have killed Guster because he _loved_ him may sound great in romance novels about vampires and werewolves but it means absolutely nothing out here in the real world. Real people don't work that way!" He shouted towards the window.

Heels clicking, Juliet marched closer to the window and gestured at the man still yelling at Lassiter through the door they'd exited. "I didn't do this. I love, Gus! I came to you for help because that's what he would've wanted me to do!"

"Lassiter, look at him. He didn't have anything to do with this… at least not in the way you think." She jumped slightly as Shawn's hand slammed into the two-way mirror. "Lassiter, he keeps saying that he _'loves'_ Gus. Present tense. If he'd killed Gus, he wouldn't do that."

"That's a guilty man, O'Hara. I know one, when I see one."

"Have you ever thought that he seems guilty because someone he angered in the past decided to get back at him? The only thing he's guilty of is trying not to let his past completely destroy his future. We've all been guilty of that at one point in our lives." Absently twirling the pendant on her necklace, she lowered her eyes to the tiled floor. "The least we can do is help him."

Massaging the reddened skin on his throat, Lassiter shook his head. "You can; I'm not letting this go. Spencer's hiding something and I guarantee I'll only find more bodies in his wake." He watched as Shawn reluctantly sat down and buried his head in his hands, sign of defeat. He got the rare tinge of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach and thought maybe for a second, his partner might be onto something. He watched as, after a few moments, Shawn raised his head and inexplicably met Lassiter's gaze through the window.


	4. Changed

Part III

Shawn had just gotten back from the police station on bail. Juliet had given him multiple investigative looks throughout the rest of his interrogation but she'd come through in the end. If it weren't for her help and insistence that he be given the benefit of the doubt, he'd be spending the night in the SBPD tombs with the rest of the drunks and midnight offenders.

He dropped his keys on the kitchen table, avoiding the picture of Gus and him kissing on the pier, and shuffled over to the fridge. Sighing in relief, he grabbed the bottle of vodka from on top of the fridge, once again forgoing food for the sweet release of alcohol. He'd already made his way through two thirds of it and he happily chugged the rest, standing in the dark in the middle of his kitchen. _Their_ kitchen, he corrected himself. Gus had been taken before he'd properly moved in and he'd fought hard with their previous landlord in hopes that he would be left to stay for a little while longer, just in case Gus made it back. Mr. Hadley gave him as much time as he could but eventually Shawn couldn't stay there and keep the apartment he'd just leased. The old Shawn would've just bought it in its entirety but a voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that he shouldn't in case Gus didn't like it.

He made his way through the dark living room, pulling off his jacket as he did. "I see you still haven't learned to keep the apartment clean." A voice cut through the dark silence of the room, shocking Shawn into stillness. Spinning around, mouth gaped open Shawn hurried forward, ignoring the pull of his tensed muscles. "Listen, I have a lot to say and not a lot of time to—"

Gus was pulled into a bone-crushing hug that pushed all of the oxygen out of his chest. Shawn didn't care and after the initial contact, even with the knowledge that time was being spread thin, Gus didn't care either. He held on just as tight as Shawn, if not tighter, his various bruises and healed cuts aching almost too much to withstand. He breathed out harshly as Shawn pressed his face, his lips to the tender, heated skin of his neck. It hurt; oh God did it hurt. It took everything he had not to let out the agonizing scream at the back of his throat.

"Gus." Shawn breathed hot and wet along Gus' jagged collarbone. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt like a piece was sliding back into place. It didn't fit snugly, not quite as well as it used to but it was there, it had returned. He could function again.

Just having Gus in the same room with him after so long was enough to render him speechless but his instincts hadn't let up. He'd noticed that Gus was thinner, there were deep pockets under his eyes and from the bits of skin he was able to see, there were scars he didn't remember seeing before. In the past, the idea that someone had left the slightest mark on Gus at all was enough for him to hunt them down and they'd never be seen again. But now, now… he didn't know how to feel. His heart kept telling him to remove his belt, tie Gus' wrists, drop him off at the police department, find whoever had done this and kill them or die trying. His head, for once, was telling him to pack their stuff and just start running and never stop.

Gus pulled back and stared at the pale blue walls behind Shawn's head. "I have to talk to you, now. There isn't much time." But Shawn shook his head and placed his hands on the sides of Gus' face. In the instant it took for Gus to begin another breath, Shawn had crushed their lips together hard enough that it should've been painful but too soft for Gus' taste at the same time. They froze for a moment, only their mouths moving before in a flurry of movement, Gus was shoved backwards into the wall behind his back. At first, he arched forward, further into Shawn as the force jarred the large bruises on his shoulder blades but he wrapped his arms around Shawn's neck and muffled a small, pained sound by sinking his teeth into Shawn's shoulder.

The second their tongues met, Shawn let out a wounded moan and hands moving of their own accord attacked Gus' clothes blindly. The sounds of shuffling shoes, buttons clattering to the hardwood floors and various scattered groans and whimpers met their ears as they made their way to the bedroom. The format familiar to Gus but he let Shawn lead, following his steps without ever letting go. And if Shawn jarred his ribs too badly or pressed too hard on a patch of stitched skin, Gus spared a wince and nothing more. He reasoned that he wasn't going to let them take anything more from him; especially not this.

The sex felt like falling into the deepest pit. So fast and so harsh, Shawn tried not to blink for fear that if he did he'd realize he'd fantasized the whole thing. He lost track of the number of times he bit out Gus' name and clawed new scars over some of the old ones. Gus didn't appear to be all there but when their eyes met, Gus pulled Shawn tighter against him, the sheer sensation enough to send Shawn over the edge. When he came, he sank his teeth into Gus' neck and not even the coppery taste of blood could stop his jaw from locking up.

* * *

When Gus woke up, his eyes processed the sunlight streaming in through the windows and the smell of coffee. He noted that he was in an apartment, the sounds of thumps and doors opening above his head, that the walls were painted a soft grey that matched the bed coverings, the apartment had been decorated by a woman and that something extreme had caused the throbbing pain in his neck. Going through a mental checklist, nothing else hurt and he didn't feel drugged or any dizzier than he usually did. Quickly and soundlessly, he got out of bed and crouched down on the floor beside it.

Eying the open doorway before turning to the bedside table and going through the draws. He pulled out pictures and a set of reading glasses. There were pictures of Shawn and Gus together and below that, obvious surveillance photos of men and women Gus didn't recognize. When he reached the bottom of the stack, he paused. It was a photo of Gus, Shawn and Henry in front of Henry's old patrol car. Shawn had that familiar smirk on his face while Gus had grinned as big as humanly possible. Just like that, the cause for alert was gone and some of the tension left Gus' body. He would be safe here until he could convince Shawn to leave.

He straightened up and stepped over the randomly strewn clothes littering the floor, indicating they'd been in a hurry to get to bed. He bit back a solemn smile as he left the bedroom. Shawn was in the kitchen looking entirely out of his element. It was this that made Gus remember with a start that the most Shawn had ever done while they'd been together was _buy_ breakfast. That time felt so long ago.

Sitting down at the nicely sized bar, Gus wondered if Gus had left their old place because it had gotten too hard to be there alone. "You never learned to cook during all those years of being on your own?" He teased instead. He tried to focus on watching Shawn awkwardly maneuver around the kitchen but even so, his eyes slid to the glowing, green clock on the oven.

Shawn smirked and flipped the oddly-shaped pancake over in the skillet. "Be happy I'm even trying. I haven't even eaten breakfast in four… in a while." His tongue stumbled over the end of his sentence. He pulled at the apron strap around his neck as it suddenly felt too tight. "And I'm working on fumes here. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Gus bit his lip, feeling tenderness on his lower lip. "What time did we finally get around to sleeping?" He couldn't keep the small amount of pride out of his tone.

Shawn lets a small grin spread across his face. "It wasn't that." He transferred his weird amoeba shaped pancake to the plate on the counter filled with other oddly shaped pancakes. "That was great by the way. But I didn't realize how rough I was until I got a good look at your neck this morning. Does that hurt?" He asked uneasily, gesturing at the quarter sized mark beneath Gus' chin.

_Like a bitch. _"No, not really. Didn't even feel it." He lied smoothly, and when Shawn returned to the food, reluctantly, he realized that for once he'd lied well enough to be believed. He'd learned, he'd been forced too, bit back his anger as he wondered morosely if Shawn had learned the same way.

Two plates, one blue and one green, were stacked high with lop-sided stacks of pancakes. Mrs. Guster had been a firm believer in the importance of breakfast and had served her family breakfast almost every day since Gus could remember; Shawn's breakfast concoction didn't look anything like his mother's and yet Gus deemed it the best batch of pancakes he'd ever tasted.

"This is really great, Shawn." Gus said through food in his mouth. He hadn't noticed until the fork met his mouth but he was starving.

Meeting Gus' eyes steadily from where he stood on the other side of the island. "Yeah. It is."

* * *

The second day of his return, Gus insisted they go to the police department. It had been over lunch, that, thankfully, Gus had made. "Why?" Gus eyed him curiously, and for what felt like the sixth time, Shawn felt the familiar pang of adoration. He concentrated on not reaching across the table, taking hold of Gus and never letting go. This determination was strained even more by the fact that he hadn't yet decided how to handle Gus' return. Whether he wanted to hunt down the men that did this or pack their bags and run. He refused to acknowledge that his lack of evidence collecting while the tracks were presumed fresh meant he'd made his choice. He'd thought he could only get revenge or flee but it turned out there was a third option; he could stay and fight.

Coughing to cover up the thickness in his throat, Shawn explained. "I mean I just got you back. Don't you think we should spend some time together?" _Don't you want to?_

"Yeah, yeah, definitely." Gus gave a shining smile and Shawn noticed his eyes a lost some of their brilliance. Some part of him understood what had changed but for now, he couldn't quite place it. "But I would feel terrible if all those people, our _friends_, kept spending all that time and money looking for me when I'm right here."

Shawn didn't respond for a moment, studying Gus' face. It was odd; in the past when Shawn had done this, Gus shied away and lowered his eyeline, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Now, he met Shawn full on and didn't shrink in the slightest. "Yeah. You're probably right."

Silence before Gus gave a small laugh and stood up. "I know I am." He kissed Shawn absently on the cheek, like he'd only been gone for a few hours and not four weeks. "I'm gonna take a shower and then we can go."

He scurried off to the back of the apartment, already having learned the layout. The first time he'd woken up in the middle of the night and shuffled blindly into the restroom, Shawn explained it away as just another one of Gus' strange talents: speedy memorization.

* * *

Lassiter and Juliet sat at their desks watching Chief Vick through her windows. Shawn and Gus say in the armchairs across from her desk and from the Chief's side of the conversation, everything was well. She smiled, stood up and came around the desk to give Gus a welcome hug. Shawn crossed his arms and stood off to the side, observing the too with mistrust.

The detective duo rushed to their feet as the two men left the officer. "We're so happy to have you back Mr. Guster. You gave us quite a scare."

"I know, I'm terribly sorry. My Uncle Burton was like a father to me so when he called I had to go. It's such a backwards town. I mean, tell them they need cell towers and they'll chase you and your 'witchcraft' out of town." Gus chuckled and shook his head. "I should've called, I really should have but I was so busy making arrangements and what not."

"I understand. I really do." The Chief gave him one last reassured smile and returned to her office. Gus watched her, smile still pasted on his face before it started to fall. Spinning around, he walked up to Juliet and gave her a brisk hug. Through it, she could feel ever ridge of his rib cage and the realization gave her chills.

"Gus, you're back? That's wonderful? What happened? Where did you go? Did you send that letter?" Juliet asked in a flurry of questions only Shawn could follow.

"What letter?" Gus asked, smile a bit forced now." No, I was just out of town for a funeral. My Uncle Burton died of colon cancer and I went down to his town to see him through his last days. I was so messed up I didn't think to call and let everyone know I was okay."

"Right." Juliet started, unconvinced.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Guster." Lassiter supplied but the effect was ruined by his parting, "Spencer, this isn't over."

Juliet rolled her eyes, gave a dutiful nod and returned to her desk. Gus turned to Shawn, "What isn't over?"

Shawn looked Gus in the eye for the first time since they'd entered the building. "Nothing. Nothing. Just Lassiter being a dick. Can we go now?" He cocked his head to the side. "I want to hear the real story, Gus. Now."

Gus winced and glanced at the people closest to them. Convinced no one had heard, he started towards the exit. "I promise you, it's not as terrible or as gruesome as you're imagining. I never saw their faces and I don't know any names. It was like being in a single-celled prison. They fed me, they kept me clean, and they kept me alone. They didn't hurt me. End of story. Nothing bad happened to me."

"Gus, tell me truth?" Shawn asked skeptically.

"Nothing bad." He repeated vehemently, willing Shawn and himself to believe it. But he didn't, and Juliet didn't and, a few feet away from her, Lassiter didn't believe it either.

* * *

"I don't understand why you're even here. Look, Jules, I appreciate everything that you've done for me but it's over now." Shawn explained, stopping Juliet at the door. In the bedroom at the back of the apartment, Gus was asleep. He cleverly dodged Shawn's first interrogation about where he'd been but they both knew the conversation had just begun.

"Don't you think it's odd that he goes missing for weeks and then just shows up again out of the blue? A day before Lassiter organizes the tip line?" Juliet speculated.

"Tip line?"

"We were running out of options and time. We all know the statistics involving missing persons cases and chances are, _were_ Gus would never be found. We had to act under the assumption that he wasn't already dead."

Shawn swallowed thickly and stared down at Juliet, eyes bright with pride. "And he's not. He went to be with his uncle for his last days. That's what happened. Just close the case and act like it never happened."

"Shawn, you know I can't just do that. A report was filed, police resources were utilized… a lot of work went into this." She paused, knowing that Shawn had tuned her out. Judging by the way he'd been stealing glances at the back of the apartment, Gus was back there. She understood how eager Shawn was to get back to Gus, she understood probably more than he did, but she had to get things squared away before they found a way to come back and bite them in the ass. "We have to know where he was."

"He already told you, he was with—"

"Shawn, we called his parents, we called the town hall in Yarkle, and we spoke to anyone that we could. Burton Guster has disappeared. No one's seen or heard from him in two years."

Shawn sighed heavily and stepped over to the bar area. He left the door open, as much of an invitation she would ever get into their home. Just the first step over the threshold was enough to make her feel out of her element. It wasn't just the overabundance of photos chronicling Shawn and Gus' relationship over the years or the smell of lavender wafting through the air. It was also the tasteful furniture that appeared brand new, the pristine hardwood floors and the polished countertops. Shawn had tried so hard to force this place into being home but instead the entire apartment felt like a painful, incomplete transition. It was unfinished.

Shawn leaned against the tall countertop and avoided her eyes. It was second nature for him to lie to protect Gus but it felt completely different when he had no idea why he had to. If he let them keep trying to find Gus' uncle, what if they found him alive or they found a death certificate from longer than what matched Gus' story? "What if Gus left on his own? If he just got pissed at me and left out of anger?"

Sensing where this was going, "I'm not going to lie for you, if that what you're asking. You have to tell the truth."

"I'm trying. I'm just speaking hypothetically. If Gus left on his own because he… I don't know… he finally got tired of playing house? If he left because he got angry, what would that mean, exactly?" In all his years of training and field experience, actually working _with_ law enforcement was a skill he'd never really needed to have.

"It would mean that we would have to investigate how and why Gus just disappeared off the face of the planet and why he's lying to us now. It would mean way more work than just telling us the truth." Shawn let out a frustrated noise and covered his eyes with his hands. "Shawn, why can't you just tell me the truth?"

"I'm trying to. Now, but you're not listening." He swallowed his pride and tried to think of everything Joss had ever said to make him regret taking Gus. "I'm a hard person to be around, Jules. I make stupid, selfish decisions; I've ruined lives and all because I'm a coward. A selfish coward."

"Shawn." Juliet started, sympathy bleeding through her skepticism.

"I don't blame him for leaving."

"Fine, I believe that he left but you have got to tell me where he's been. How he managed to dodge detection when we've had every alert out that we have clearance for." Juliet conceded. "Why can't you at least explain that to me?"

"Because I can't! I don't know where he was or what they did… what happened to him." He insisted, eyes alit with desperation that Juliet, that someone believed him. "All I know is that he showed up days ago, he won't answer any of my questions directly and if I go anywhere near him when he's not expecting it, he jumps like he's been tasered."

Juliet stared him down with her best detective glare but every part of her said that he was telling the truth. Or his version of it anyway. "Okay. Okay, I believe you."

Shawn nodded and pulled his face out of his hands for a moment. Long enough to admit, "I'm scared, Juliet." He jerked his head towards the direction he'd been staring at off and on since she'd arrived. "That's not my Gus."


	5. Weeks

**A/N:** I'm so sorry I haven't gotten around to updating this story in a while. I've gotten sidetracked by other projects and the sequel to "Postcards". Thanks to all that have read and reviewed; you guys mean the world to me.

Part IV

The first time Gus woke up on the hard, cool floor of the apartment, he instantly froze, listening hard for any sign that he had company. The second time, he hurried to the bathroom to check for injection sites in inconspicuous places. The fifth time, Gus reasoned that what they had done to him in that darkened basement had had lasting effects. The only thing he could do was hope it didn't happen when Shawn was around and that it wouldn't stop him from doing what he'd come here to do.

So what if he passed out a few times a day. Shawn was safe and unaware and Gus was determined to keep it that way.

* * *

To say that Shawn had let the mystery go was neither true nor false. At some point during the first week that Gus had been back, he'd decided to give Gus time to explain. However, that was under the assumption that Gus would attempt to explain. Now, it had been three weeks since he'd come home to find him there and he still had nothing. No thing. Nada and Shawn was losing his ability to fake cheery and happy. Every good feeling and all the joy at Gus' return had been hindered by the possibility of a threat he couldn't see, couldn't protect them from.

The onslaught of cases flowing into the Psych office was the only thing that kept his mind off of wondering where Gus had been, where all the bruises came from and why he felt the need to triple-check the doors and windows before he went to bed each night.

Now, he smiled and grit his teeth as he followed Gus and his father into the Guster house for Mrs. Guster's small going away celebration. As an attempt to take his mother's mind off of her impending divorce, Gus was sending her away to a two month trip through Europe. It had been Shawn's idea to throw a going away party, seeing as it would give him a chance to study Gus' façade undisturbed.

He watched as Gus smiled and laughed, telling one-liners and old stories to his mother's coworkers. The only thing noticeably out the ordinary was the slight frown to Mrs. Guster's face before she excused herself to tend to the appetizers in the kitchen. Shawn followed her in to see her nervously shuffling trays around.

"Mrs. G, are you alright?" Shawn asked tentatively, keeping an eye on Gus out in the dining room.

Shaking her head and set down the pitcher of raspberry lemonade. "No, no I am not alright. It was one thing for you to drag my son into whatever trouble you got yourself into but I am putting my foot down, Shawn Spencer." She stated, staring him down with such intense light Shawn froze on the spot. "I don't know where you learned your manners but I would think your father raised you to ask a woman before shipping her off to another continent."

The confusion on Shawn's face only egged her on. "And using Burton to do it, well that was just pure idiocy on your part. You think I can't see through this little plan of yours?"

"What plan? I didn't even know you were going away until Gus had me mail out the invites a week ago." Shawn admitted, honesty refreshing to his nerves. His head was rushing through the many possible reasons Gus had kept this a secret from him; each reason getting worse with time.

"What?" They stood there, each studying the other. Gus entered the kitchen and barely acknowledged the tension in the room before heading for the cake.

"Mom, come on. Everyone wants to take some pictures with you." When there was no answer, Gus looked up. "What's going on?"

Never taking her distrustful eyes off of Shawn's form, "Shawn claims not to know anything about my leaving."

Gus chuckled and came closer to his mother. "It's true. I told you, mom, this was a surprise. Shawn didn't know anything about it until I asked him to mail the invitations out."

Both Mrs. Guster and Shawn turned to gawk at the nonchalant Gus; he didn't appear the slightest bit frazzled. "So, are we taking pictures or what?"

Hours later, just after Gus sent Shawn to get their jackets from the hall closet, Shawn watched as Gus handed his mother a thick envelope. Judging by the size of the envelope and the shock on Mrs. Guster's face, it was enough to keep her away from Santa Barbara for at least a year or two.

* * *

Gus initiated one kiss between them since he'd been back.

They'd invited Juliet and Henry over to review the details of a missing elementary school teacher. Pizza had been ordered, one pepperoni and one pineapple, and sodas set out on the table tops. After two hours of non-stop strategizing, with room for Shawn and Gus to bicker over whether or a not a ghost was involved, the four took a break. Henry and Juliet started up a conversation about the new head of the Missing Persons division and Shawn and Gus were left to do what they'd gotten used to doing. Studying each other without looking like they were studying each other.

Henry noticed without looking like he'd noticed. He continued his discussion with Juliet all the while noting that Gus had barely taken a bite of his slice of pineapple pizza. Instead, he managed to hide one whole slice between two paper plates in hand and pretended like he'd eaten one of the two he'd set out for himself. Henry also noted that his son was too distracted by tracing the lines of Gus' jaw and the shape of his mouth to notice his… whatever they called each other, hadn't eaten anything.

Henry sighed, making a neutral sound of acknowledgement towards Juliet. Gus was just as much his son as Shawn was but approaching this subject left him feeling awkward. When Shawn had asked to use one of his uncle's properties over a year ago, he'd half hoped he was planning on moving out there with Gus and making a life for himself. Sure when Winnie Guster had come around demanding to know why her son had disappeared, he'd wondered whether or not Gus had been a willing participant. Most of Shawn and Gus' stories began with Shawn coercing Gus into doing something he didn't really want to do. When Gus came to Henry's house months later, alone and asking if he'd heard from Shawn, Henry just knew his son had gotten himself into some deep trouble. After all, it just wasn't like Shawn to leave Gus behind on one of his adventures.

Now, watching the two stumble around each other awkwardly, Gus being pensive and smooth, Shawn overly exuberant and coarse, Henry didn't know what to think. Something was up between them but for once it looked as if Gus was the source of discourse. He was the one being quiet and unforthcoming. He was the one shoving Shawn so out of his usual element.

"Who does that? I mean really, have you ever heard of a filing system that goes alphabetically by first name? How backwards is that?" Juliet finished her spiel, having failed to notice Henry had been inside his head the entire time.

Meanwhile, Gus had set about cleaning up the empty pizza boxes and plastic cups empty of soda. Shawn jumped up to help after a moment, knocking over three haphazardly stacked piles of paper. They fluttered to the ground, out of order before they hit the floor. Letting out a frustrated growl, Shawn ducked to his feet to start putting them back in order, Gus setting down the trash bags to help. Henry sighed and started to help as well when Juliet stopped him. With a jerk of her head, Henry saw the scene for what it was.

Shawn had made a mess, he'd screwed up and Gus was helping him put everything back together again. Gus crouched down across from his son, reaching for the beginning pages and watching as Shawn gathered the tail-end page numbers. Silently, they picked up, separated and replaced the pages in their rightful files. Shawn was still awkward and ungraceful in his movements but Gus moved as if it was second nature to fix what Shawn had ruined.

Henry sat back with Juliet and observed as Gus put the beginning files in order and Shawn put together the ends. Eventually everything was replaced and set back on the desk top. Gus started to continue cleaning when Shawn grabbed his wrist. The apology was written on his face but for what, Henry had no idea. He even shot a glance at Juliet but she was just as clueless. It happened so quickly, just a blink of an eye really but one moment Shawn had his head lowered, looking up at Gus through his eyelashes and the next they were joined at the lips. It was a small kiss, quick and chaste like they'd gotten used to it though there was no way they could have in such a short time.

Henry didn't know whether to feel flattered that Shawn trusted him not to freak out or wonder if Shawn wanted him to freak out. Juliet was torn between joy that the two weren't stomping around each other tensely like territorial puppies or worried because Gus' disappearance was still such a great mystery. In the end, both Henry and Juliet watched the two with faraway thoughts.

* * *

They reached the one month mark when Gus stopped sleeping. They'd built a routine of falling asleep next to each other at close hours, enough to call it sleeping together. Shawn hadn't accomplished this without a fight.

At first he'd convinced Gus to bring whatever left over work he was studying to bed and then he'd tried staying up until Gus fell asleep. It failed terribly because Gus had somehow gotten used to going past the early hours of the morning without sleep.

Then Shawn started waking up earlier and earlier, making as much noise as he possibly could, going through his morning routine until Gus was forced to grumble and glare his way out of bed. Then all Shawn had to do was keep him awake throughout the day and Gus would be too tired to stay awake much longer than Shawn at night. And sure they were still barely speaking to each other, Gus refusing to explain where he was and Shawn too stubborn to outright ask and be disappointed, but some of their closeness had returned.

They might argue during the day, disagree over just about everything but just as Shawn was drifting off at night he'd feel Gus at his side and he'd slide over just enough to bury his head in the strong scent he'd missed during those four long weeks. It felt almost as if Gus had never left, like they'd never gotten this screwed up. They might fight all the time and want to claw each other's eyes out but, they were together and that meant something.

It was great, it was enough until Gus started to look more and more worn down. It wasn't just shadows under his eyes deepening, Shawn's were just as bad. Gus had begun losing weight and energy and started snapping to everyone, even Juliet. So, Shawn downed sixteen ounces of coffee one night to see what was keeping him up. He pretended to fall asleep, waiting a few minutes until Gus gently pulled out his arms and got out of bed. Again, waiting until he was sure Gus was lost in his own head, Shawn followed the taller man into the hallway, stopping just out of eyeshot.

Gus was on the phone and by the tone of his voice, he wasn't pleased to be. "I know I said a little over a month but I'm going to need more time. He doesn't trust me yet." Gus gave a quick glance over his shoulder and by the pause in movement, Shawn thought he'd been found out but Gus sighed into the speaker and didn't make a move towards the hall. Sitting down at the island, he lowered his forehead into his hand. "I know but if you want him, you're going to have to wait until I can get him away from all of his friends. Why? Because they're all cops. You might not see a problem in that, but I do. You can't kill an entire police department without raising questions."

Shawn's heart pumped hard enough to hear. "Please, all I need is more time. When I'm sure he trusts me I'll give the word and you can come get us. Yeah, right here, the new address. Just a few weeks." Gus hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands. He sat that way for a moment before slamming his hands down on the counter with a muttered, "_Shit._"

Shawn hurried back to their bedroom, quietly on the pads of his feet. He'd just pulled the sheets back over his shoulders when Gus slipped in beside him and pulled him close to his chest. Gus snuggled closer, pressed his face in the space between Shawn's chin and his shoulder. His breathing slowed and he fell asleep slowly but Shawn's eyes never rested.


End file.
